


wedding night blues

by angelcult



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Biting, Come Eating, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Falling In Love, First Time, Forced Marriage, Hair Washing, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marriage, Mild powerplay, Non-Penetrative Sex, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, plot if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/angelcult
Summary: In the haze of marriage, Langa is forced in close proximity with Adam. However, as time goes on, Langa finds it’s not distance that makes the heart fonder but closeness.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Shindo Ainosuke | Adam
Comments: 21
Kudos: 223





	wedding night blues

The white veil over Langa’s eyes leaves his vision fluttery and hazy, as if he’s in some fairytale or dream. His suit, white with silver accents, is tailored to him and his white, heeled shoes pinch his feet.

Adam, no, _Shindō_ let him pick out everything from the decor to the guests, save for the man’s aunts who had fawned over him, taken by his pale hair and eyes.

 _Made of snow,_ they’d said, _like a proper fairytale Prince._

Now, as he holds his bouquet of snowdrops and black hellebores, he can feel the fear finally rising in him after all the numbness was gone. 

_He was getting married. He was getting married to_ Adam.

His entire existence had been expertly betted on and left him with no safety net to fall on after. It left an agitating itch against his skin, just beneath it, really. It sent zaps of distaste and disgust up his spine, but it all felt hopeless.

Langa was a romantic at heart, he liked to have fun and be close, his love language was touch and kisses, his dreams were of happy, accidental dates in museums and butterfly gardens, all ending with a partner and child.

Even that dream was gone now, crushed by a man who held himself with far too much power.

As he turned towards the full-body mirror in his dressing room, he saw his hands trembling in his reflection, gripping the flowers tightly before he forced himself to loosen his grip lest he damage them.

He’s only ever made Shindō angry once, and he hadn’t hurt him, not like Reki or Miya, or anyone else who got in his way.

It was the fear of the unknown that made him refuse to leave his dressing room, fifteen minutes late for his own wedding.

Langa jolted out of his thought after hearing a knock at the door, turning towards it as it opened, tense, though he relaxed after seeing the one bright spot in all of this.

His mother.

She breezed into the room and shut the door behind herself, smiling a little at him.

“Hi, sweetie,” She greeted as she walked over, lifting his veil to look into his eyes with obstruction.

“Hi, mama.” Langa felt his voice crack and winced, looking away from her. 

“You know,” Her voice was shaking a little, as everything had been explained to her, though there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. “When your dad and I got married, I hid in the dressing room for an hour, I was so scared to leave. I kept thinking: “he doesn’t want to marry me” but we both know that had just been the nerves talking. It’s hard but you can do it.”

She had to stand on the tips of her toes to kiss him on the cheek, and Langa relaxed minutely into her touch.

It was all for her, he thought, because Shindō _was_ a millionaire of some sort and coming across work after the move and the funeral and the therapy was hard. His mother would be taken care of, that had been his highest stipulation, even if they fell through or got a divorce or Langa kicked the bucket, his mother would be _taken care of._

Shindō’s aunts had thought it was a sign of how good of a man he was, that his mother came before his husband even after the wedding.

 _“Not enough young men really love their mothers these days,”_ They’d said, _“we’ll hold Shindō to it.. but he loves you so much, I think he’d do that all on his own.”_

“Okay.” Langa breathes as he looks away from the mirror, reaching up to fix his veil.

“I’m ready.”

He wasn’t.

* * *

The aisle is scattered with rose petals, like blood against the white fabric. Everyone stood up and clapped at his arrival, relief sweeping through the room as he stepped in with his mother leading him.

Shindō cut an imposing figure in his matching tux, tall and immovable. His eyes lit up when he saw Langa, scanning him over. It was unnerving how open he could be towards him, how his happiness radiated when Langa stepped into the room.

It was almost like he was really in love with him, almost.

They were halfway down the aisle now, and the nerves were coming back. He had to fight to keep his hands steady, and before he knew it, his mother was kissing his cheek and he was before Shindō, feeling small and unprepared.

The man’s eyes soften when he looks at him, and his own tenseness that Langa hadn’t noticed melted away from his shoulders, the line of them smoothing.

“You look lovely.” He says softly, a smile touching his cheeks, and it’s hard to be full of contempt when Shindō looks like _he’s_ having the happiest day of his life, like this way the wedding he daydreamed about as a little boy, like Langa was always meant to be his bride.

“Thank you.. you look-you look very handsome.” And he ran his eyes over him for effect, smiling even though he didn’t want to.

Soon the priest was speaking, and they were reciting their vows. 

As a little boy, he’d wanted to say his parents' vows, because _that_ had been what love was to him, his parents and their effortless affection for each other but he couldn’t sully that memory with the man before him.

He wasn’t deserving of seeing into Langa’s heart, try as he might, so Langa had written his own, vaguely generic sounding vows that had been doctored up with flowery words to make them sound somewhat good to Shindō’s aunts.

Even those, however, tasted like ashes in his mouth, even if they made the room awe and ooh save for his friends and mother.

“Do you, Shindō Ainosuke, take Hasegawa Langa to be your lawfully wedded husband, to provide and care for him, in sickness and in health, through rain and adversary, ‘til death do you part?”

“I do.” 

The priest repeated the same to Langa, his hands were trembling around his flowers, nearly crushing the stems, and then he was speaking those faithful and jaded words.

“I do.”

“You may now kiss your husband.”

Shindō smiled softly as he leaned in, and his kiss was so soft and gentle that it made Langa gasp, a quiet and sharp inhale of air.

It was the opposite of an out-of-body experience. He could feel the cold ring on his fingers, the way his veil flowed down his back when it wasn’t covering his face, the taste of Shindō’s toothpaste and the cigarette he’d anxiously smoked earlier that day.

There was clapping and cheers all around them even after Langa broke the barely returned kiss.

Looking around the room, he saw his mother crying with a resigned smile on her face, while his friends, _Reki and Miya and Shadow,_ watched on in horror.

It was like a nightmare come to life.

* * *

They had their first dance together, to a slow song that Langa had absentmindedly admitted to liking to Shindō months ago. 

They cut the wedding cake together, it was a three-tier and sickening red velvet that Shindō fed him a piece of, and he pretended to enjoy.

When he threw his bouquet, to everyone’s shock and amusement, it was Shadow who caught it.

It was almost perfect, it would have been amazing, if Langa was married to anyone else.

As the guests left and the venue was cleaned, Langa found himself sending his friends back to their homes one by one.

They had done all they could do, but it was something they couldn’t come back from. Reki had ended up in the hospital, everyone who stepped up to beef with Adam, even his young and ornery protégé, was left defeated.

Langa knew belatedly, as Shindō helped him into the back of a sleek, black car being driven by an unfamiliar man, where Kikuchi usually sat, that he’d have to do this one himself.

Shindō pulled Langa into his arms, resting his head atop Langa’s, nose buried into his hair while his arms wrapped around him in a mockery of a lover’s hold.

“Shindō,” Langa began, tilting his head back to look up at him. “You should buckle in. It’s safer that way, what if something happens, what if-“

“Okay,” The man laughed, letting go of the younger to scoot back. “I’ll buckle in.”

“You.. you can hold me when we get home.” Swallowing harshly after, he leans up and presses a quick kiss to Shindō’s mouth, and it pleases him if the small flush that rises to his cheeks is anything to go by.

They buckle in and ride apart, though Langa throws the newlywed a bone and holds his hand. 

* * *

They live in a penthouse together, even if Shindō thought they should have bought a house. 

It was _their_ money, he’d explained, Langa could do whatever he wanted with it, he had a card that was connected to Shindo’s bank account and even an account of his own, with more money than he’d ever spend.

Exhaustion was what he felt when he stepped through the door, taking off his shoes to not track anything onto the carpet, and then undoing his bow tie, letting it loosely hang around his neck.

Shindō stepped close to him after, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re tired, come on, let’s get ready for bed.” His voice was gentle as he led him to their bedroom, even though Langa had spent many nights kicking Shindō out and having him sleep in the guest room.

He’d even completely destroyed it once, seeking to piss the man off, to make him do _something,_ but he’d just laughed it off and called a cleaner. 

Now, Langa stood relatively still as he undressed him, carefully peeling away the layers as he placed a kiss here or there to his neck, nose occasionally in his hair.

He liked the way Langa smelled, had expressed it more than once, and it was almost routine that he could inevitably bury his nose in his hair and push himself into Langa’s space.

It reminded him of a puppy, really, his eagerness to please Langa and how he trailed after him when he wasn’t working.

“I have to shower,” Langa said softly as he was led to the bed, now wearing nothing but his boxers and a plain, black t-shirt.

“You can take a shower tomorrow,” Shindō said softly as he laid him down, pulling the covers around him. He almost felt safe. Beneath the covers, feeling the cool sheets brushing against his bare legs. “You should rest now, it’s been a long day.”

“I’ll be in soon, just let me finish getting this suit off.” 

Langa fell asleep before he was done.

  
  


Warm, a comfortable heat sinking into Langa’s limbs, and another, wetter heat that made his hips push up and his back arch, down between his thighs..

Blearily blinking his eyes open, Langa was clear-headed and without thought of the previous day, raising his hand to brush his hair out of his eyes as multiple things happened at once.

The glint of his ring caught the light streaming in through the window, the pleasure curling in his abdomen was beyond caused by the body-shaped lump beneath the covers, and Shindō wasn’t wrapped around him like he tended to be in the mornings. 

“Oh-!” Langa gasped as the realization rushed in, shock and anger and emotions he could identify running through him as he pushed himself up onto one elbow, pulling the covers back.

Shindō looked up at him from beneath his eyelashes. 

His cheeks were flushed from the heat gathered beneath the covers, his hair messy and falling in tangled waves around his face.

Moaning softly, Shindō made sure their eyes were connected before he pushed him down to the base, Langa could feel himself in the back of his throat.

“Fuck- Shindō, what are-“ He swallowed around him, Langa could feel his throat working and then he was trembling and falling flatly onto the bed. He tried to push up again, to get deeper, but Shindō held his hips still and kept going until Langa was crying out and coming down his throat. 

As his orgasm faded, and Shindō laid pressed against his side with his nose in his hair, that familiar numbness spread through him. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy that, he hadn’t _asked_ for that.

It was the first time Shindō had ever touched him like that, even if he had the uncomfortable tendency to undress him with eyes. 

“Let’s.. let’s go shower.”

“Together?” Shindō asked against his hair and Langa nodded.

Like ripping off a bandaid, it was like ripping off a bandaid.

Climbing out of bed, the both made their way to the large, en-suite bathroom. There was a large tub as well as a stand up shower that could fit at least three people, the shower head large and mimicking rainfall with a water pressure that was more than good.

Shindō ran the water, steam filling the room as they undressed. Shindō’s eyes ran over Langa in appreciation, and then he was guiding him inside the shower while he followed behind.

The glass was frosted and texture, growing foggier with the steam after the door was closed. Despite the space inside, Langa found it uncomfortable to be so close to Shindō, especially when he was without clothes, but he refused to let it show.

They never showered together, but Shindō never gave out early morning blowjobs either, so it was apparent that things had changed with marriage and that Langa would have to change with them. 

“Let me wash your hair.” Shindō offered, and Langa nodded, peering up at Shindō as he gathered himself to speak.

“Can I wash yours after?” He asked, and hated the way the older man’s eyes lit up with happiness when he did.

“Of course, love.”

Shindō was gentle as he lathered his hair, stroking his fingers through it almost soothingly as scratched his nails against Langa’s scalp, lulling him into a daze as he was lavished over.

Soon, it was being rinsed out, and so Langa was faced with a dilemma.

Shindō was taller than him, enough that he would need to stand on his toes. As he did, he stumbled, scrambling for a hold when Shindō grabbed his hips, steadying him as he did so.

“Be careful, now.” Shindō teased, eyes dropping to where he held him.

“Thanks.” It was uncomfortable but his grip gradually loosened as Langa washed through his hair, more clinical than reverent, and when he was done and the suds were washed away, Shindō let him go.

  
  


After their shower, Langa let Shindō dress him, his words from before echoing about how he preferred to love than to be loved.

He translated this through his constant want to take care of Langa, to feed and clothe him, and.. well, he supposes that pleasuring him falls under that too.

“Do you have work?” Langa asks as he takes a seat at the kitchen island, a cup of tea lightly grasped in his hands.

“No, love,” Shindō replies, his tone amused as he holds up his hand and shows him the matching gold ring.

“Newlyweds, remember? I have a lot of time off.” 

Langa smiles and nods and sips his tea, all the while uneasiness settles in his stomach.

* * *

The week goes on as usual, with only a few new additions to their routine, namely with Shindō finding any reason to get on his knees for Langa.

Whenever he tries to return the favour, Shindō just smiles at him and kisses him with the taste of his cum still in his mouth.

As time goes on, Langa finds himself actively seeking Shindō out, if only to sit together in a shared silence.

At night, Shindō holds him tightly, and tentatively, Langa begins to hold him back.

* * *

At first, he fights himself on it. Punishes himself with hits and slaps for growing used to Shindō, for seeking his company and time and his warmth in their bed.

He hates himself for associating him with pleasure, hates that when he touches himself all he can remember is his mouth around him, the way he kisses his thighs, and the, somewhat embarrassing, time he ate him out until he came untouched. 

Then, even that, much like his contempt and his anger, faded until a dull nothing took its place.

“Langa?” Shindō calls as he steps through the door, the sky dark with his return from work. When Langa had first arrived, Shindō worked more than what could be considered healthy or productive, through the night and into the next morning.

Now, he tended to arrive home around ten or eleven at night.

“In here!” Langa called from their room, finding himself smiling a little when he heard his steps speed up to get to him.

Turning, Langa had a pleased look on his face as Shindō leaned down to greet him with a kiss, humming softly into it before pulling away.

It was routine now, it was simple and easy, even though Reki and Miya looked worried when he talked less and less of divorce and more about the time spent with Shindō, willing or not.

“Shower with me?” 

“Of course.”

After their shower and getting ready for bed with brushed teeth and tedious primping, they climbed into the plush mountain of covers and pillows together.

Shindō typically only slept in boxers, while Langa at least wore that _and_ a shirt, some part of him not comfortable with the intimacy that comes with sleeping without that one layer.

Though, as Langa laid with his head on Shindō’s chest, his hand gently tracing circles on his chest, he found his eyes wandering lower and lower. His hand followed, tracing around the band of Shindō’s boxers, humming softly and curiously.

“Langa..?”

“Can I?” He asked suddenly, before his nerves could get to him. “Can I touch you?”

“Of course, darling.”

Langa nodded, slipping his hand down to pull Shindō’s cock from the slit in his pants. He was barely hard, though Langa had seen him this way during showers, glimpsed the hardened bulge in his pants after he finished blowing him.

Stroking his hand over it slowly, he watches with wide eyes and fascination as his cock hardens in his hand, jolting a little in surprise when Shindō moans softly. 

It’s almost exhilarating, being the one to make him sound like that, and when he looks up at him, his eyes are heavily lidded and he rocks his hips up slowly, smiling lazily at Langa until the boy looks away.

He strokes him faster, pausing when Shindō rests his hand on top of his own, directing him to what feels best, until he’s slick and moaning from Langa’s touch, resting a hand on his head to smooth his fingers through his hair.

Langa gasps when Shindō moans, cum spilling over their joint hands, running down the backs of their knuckles and onto his stomach.

Gently parting their hands, Langa sits up and pauses, looking at the mess on his hand and then back to Shindō, who is watching him with a flushed face, his hair spread all over the pillow. Swallowing, he raises his hand to his mouth and licks it away, eyes falling closed as he finally understands the feeling rushing through him.

_Power._

When he does this, he has power over Shindō, and they both know it.

* * *

“Not-not inside, just between my thighs like that.” 

Langa is laid on his back, legs pressed together and his inner thighs slick and sticky with lube and sweat. Shindō is leaning over him, holding both of his legs over one of his shoulders as he pushes between them. 

Moaning softly at the feel of them rutting together, Shindō’s cock against his own, Langa smiles at him through the haze of pleasure surrounding them.

“So good, you’re doing so, _like that,_ so good-“ 

Shindō was always so receptive to praise, to Langa’s specifically, the development of their once strained relationship took a turn. 

Pressing a kiss to the arch of Langa’s foot, Shindō sighed loudly, eyes nearly black with lust and adoration.

“You feel so good, love.” Shindō breathed, pulling Langa closer by his legs, flushed together, his pace devolving into a rough and messy grind against each other, lube and sweat and pre-cum slicking the way until Langa’s arching his back and coming, cock twitching against his stomach with every pulse and Shindō is following behind him.

They fall silent save for their panting, catching their breath and then Shindō is slipping away and coming back with a warm rag to clean Langa up.

“We have to wash the sheets again.” Langa mutters sleepily under the care.

“I’ll take care of it, I’ll take care of everything.” And Langa is surprised to realise that he believes him. 

* * *

It’s hard to make Shindō angry, at least, it’s hard for _Langa_ to make Shindō angry. Work can annoy him, but it never makes his eyes blaze and teeth grit like it is now.

“It’s fine, I’m fine, Shindō.” Langa rushes out, standing quickly to come over to him, hands against his cheeks, eyebrows drawn.

“He’s hurting you, Langa.” Shindō responds and Langa frowns.

“A lot of people are going to hurt me, you can’t go and half-kill them all.” Langa explains quickly. 

“It won’t be _half._ ” 

He’d been expecting it, an argument with Reki after he realised how content he was at Shindō’s side.

But he hadn’t expected him to call him a whore, didn’t know he’d throw his failures back in his face until all he could do was storm away before he started crying in front of him. It was no surprise that once Shindō realised how upset he was, that he’d be wanting apologies in blood, if he could get it.

“You don’t care about all of them as much.” Shindō replies hotly, brow furrowed as he speaks. “I know how much you care about Reki, and the rest of your friends, and this..” He rested his hand against Langa’s cheek, wiping his tears away slowly with his thumb.

Closing his eyes, Langa rested his cheek against Shindō’s palm.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not-“

“Ainosuke.”

Shindō grows quiet, and Langa realises that he’s never called him by his given name before.

“Ainosuke, it’s okay.”

And it is, it’s okay because Reki will get over it eventually, and doubly so because Langa has a husband to come home to who’s willing to burn the world down for him. 

“Can I kiss you?” Shindō’s eyes are steady on his face as he asks, and it would be unnerving if he wasn’t so used to him staring at him whenever he had the chance.

“Yes.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Shindō’s mouth is against his own, hungry and scalding, his hands gripping Langa’s hips as Langa’s own arms fall around his neck, raking his fingers up through his hair. The heat between burns hotter when with every kiss and moan, Shindō backing them into a wall where their hands scramble to unbutton shirts and pants, a zipper breaks amidst their confined chaos.

It’s never been like this, Langa notes, never a frenzy to get to the other and he knows that this time will be different, even as Shindō is lifting him up, wrapping Langa’s legs around his waist and carrying him to the bedroom.

They barely make it past the threshold when Langa is pinned to the wall again and Shindō’s teeth find his neck, sinking in and drawing a moan out of his husband. 

They’re barely dressed, Langa’s shirt hangs open and Shindō’s is completely missing, his zipper broken and his pants open. 

“Want you,” Langa breathes out as he directs Shindō’s mouth back to his own, “I want you so bad.”

“You can have me, you can have _everything._ ” 

The bed is their next destination, completely losing their clothes along the way. They’ve been naked in front of each other before, touched and been touched, but it feels newer when they’re going further than they ever have. 

The foreplay is rushed to make room for prep, Shindō watching hungrily as Langa moans and squirms on his fingers, until his cock is an angry red and he’s nearly begging.

Their first time isn’t slow and sweet, it’s like their first meeting, a whirlwind of emotions and energy.

Langa’s nails leave hot, burning lines of blood down Adam’s back, Adam’s teeth sink into flesh, leaving a litany of bloody bites and bruises behind until his skin is mottled with them.

“Are you going to cum?” Shindō asks, hands pinning Langa’s wrists to the bed. He can’t even keep his eyes open beneath Shindō, toes curling as he forces out an answer.

“I am-I _am, fuck,_ keep going-!” 

Leaning down, Shindō kisses him hard, licking into Langa’s mouth as he tenses up around him and then he’s turning his head away, moaning a wailing cry of _“Ainosuke!”_ as he cums, moaning again, softer and more broken, as the heat of Shindō’s orgasm fills him.

Shindō lowers himself to Langa’s side after he pulls out, pulling the boy to his chest.

The quiet is welcoming as they let their hearts return to a steady beating in their chests, curled around each other.

“Maybe.. maybe I should call you by your given name more often.” Langa finally breathed out, smiling when he heard the low sound of Shindō’s laughter.

Being married isn’t feeling much like a mistake anymore, in fact, when he looks down at the ring on his finger, he feels content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was a bit of a “softer” take on Langa and Adam’s relationship.


End file.
